


The Dangers of Binds

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [74]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: FtM!Clint, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:00:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2091591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Clint gets sent to medical because of his binds. </p><p>TransFtM!Clint</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to correct me or yell at me for any mistakes I made. I apologize in advance though.

"I said, would you like to go get dinner with me?" Phil asked again, enjoying the rare sight of a speechless Clint Barton. 

"L-Like a…" Clint narrowed his eyes and stared at Phil for a second. 

"Like a date. Hopefully so." Phil smiled at him.

"I, uh- I- yeah. Yeah. Definitely. I mean, yeah. sure." Clint said, biting his lip to prevent the stupid grin from growing even more. 

"Okay. I’ll pick you up at 8 on the range?" Phil was absolutely smitten.

"Sounds great."

"Great."

"great."

"Good."

"good." They both laughed a little at their intelligent conversation before Clint rubbed the back of his neck and jerked his head at the door. "So I’ll see you later…"

"I’ll see you later." Phil affirmed.

“‘Kay.” Clint bit his lip again before he closed the door behind him. He leaned on the hardwood for a small while, his face on the palm of his hands, trying hard not to pump his fists in the air and scream out a ‘YES!’ to the heavens. 

He smoothed out his face and tried walking back to his quarters. He only had a few hours to get ready. And if the junior agents look at him and the strange smile playing at his lips, well, that’s their problem.

—-

It was 7:30, and Clint is still in medical. 

Goddamnit. He needed to escape or get away somehow. He had a hot date tonight and he better not fucking miss it. All this because his rib hurt a little. Natasha sometimes was the biggest mother hen.

The doctor came back in a clipboard in hand, as he reviewed it. “Mr. Barton, How long have you been using your binds for?” The doctor asked.

"Uhm, Years. uhh… I didn’t take them off this week though." What? have you  _tried_  using those tape binds? Those things were a lot more trouble than they look.

"Well, I’ll have to advice against using them again."

"Wait, what? What are you talking about?"

"Your binding method proved to be quite… tight. and in addition to you not taking them off for a whole week, frankly I’m more disturbed at the fact that you managed to clean yourself without taking the binds off, Your ribs had become slightly misshapen. I’d advice against binding your chest with the tape again if you don’t want your ribs to permanently be damaged."

Clint let the comment about his hygiene pass (he had ways to clean his chest without taking the binds off. Years of practice made sure of that, at least) and focused more on the restriction the doctor just gave him. “What if I don’t bind it as tight as I did before?” 

The doctor shakes his head. “I’m afraid that’s not an option. Oh, and by the way, we need you to stay for at least 24 hours to finish the checking and basic protocol on this matter.”

"Oh, come on, Doc! I’ve got a hot date tonight!" Clint protested.

"I’ve got hot chow mien my wife is putting in the fridge as we speak. It’s a lose-lose scenario. You don’t want to stay here just as much as I don’t. But if I let you out, the bones in your rib cage might falter without proper support. And that’s on me. So I guess both our dates have to wait."

Clint groaned.

—-

There was a knock on the door before Phil came in. carrying with him Chinese take-outs. “Hey.”

Clint had hurriedly pulled the sheets up his chest before the door opened. He felt a lot like Mulan hiding her binded chest from Shang. except, Clint wasn’t wearing his binds and he was just generally freaked out about Coulson being here especially when he didn’t even tell Phil where he was, just that he had to reschedule because something came up. “Hi. What’re- What’re you doing here?”

"I’m here for our date." Phil said simply, placing the cartons of Chinese food on the tray and rolling it over the cot. "I’m sorry I’m late. I had to go and pick this up for you." Phil sat beside Clint’s legs and handed the archer a box. Clint opened the box and inside were three tank top binders. "I hope I got the size right. Well, I’m fairly sure I got the size right, because I got it from your tac suit measurements, but with you always wearing your tape, I couldn’t be too sure."

Clint swallowed and looked at Phil. “You knew?”

Phil tilted his head to the side in obvious wonder. “I wasn’t supposed to?”

Clint shook his head. “That’s- That’s not what I meant. I mean, I never meant for you to find out. I just- I thought you’d-“

"Clint, I’m your handler. I’ve known since the first day you arrived at SHIELD, and I couldn’t care less." Phil bit his lip as he offered the archer a small private smile.

Clint smiled back at him.

"Well then, shall we continue our date?" Phil asked, handing Clint a pair of chopsticks. 


	2. Chapter 2

There was something very wrong with Clint. Phil had a feeling.

Okay, so maybe having a ‘feeling’ doesn’t actually give him grounds to call out the dogs but this was Clint they’re talking about. He’s known to get a little paranoid when it came to Clint, whether the archer was aware of it or not. 

It’s been a week since their date in medical - and, yes, fine. It might not have been the most romantic first date but that didn’t seem to bother Clint at all so Phil was going to take it for what it was and call it a win - and they’ve been on two other dates not counting the first one. Clint seemed to be genuinely having fun with him. So that’s good.

But Phil knew what discomfort looked like and Clint, no matter how much he denied it, was uncomfortable. Phil just had to figure out what it was that made Clint uncomfortable. Simple, right? 

Well at least he thought it was. Clint Barton was a mystery, dipped in enigma, covered by a paradox, surrounded by a ten foot perimeter of riddle. Turns out, Clint reacted negatively to a lot of things - and by that Phil meant that Clint tensed and then proceeded to slouch - mostly when he hears Phil’s voice, or sees Phil, or even fucking smell Phil. 

So that kind of sucks for Phil because he thought it would’ve taken him longer to blow this relationship into smithereens. He really liked Clint too but if Phil’s presence was making the archer uncomfortable, Phil is going to back down. Clint’s happiness will always come first.

Now, his knuckle hung stupidly between his face and Clint’s door in midair,  _knock, you idiot_ , his brain supplied. 

Phil sighed before he did. There was a muffled ‘Who is it?’ like Clint’s mouth was underneath a pillow or something. 

"It’s Coulson. I think we should talk." 

There was a rustle and the sound of a few things getting bumped and shoved around like there was a fight going no inside before Phil heard Clint curse and cry out in pain. Phil took out his ID badge and a paperclip and started to pick the lock - lock picking is a useful skill that he doesn’t get to use often, shut up.

He swung the door open and found Clint lying on the floor. He was groaning and had his knees curled up against his belly but that wasn’t what caught Phil’s attention. Oh no, it was the way Clint’s head appeared to be stuck in the binder Phil got for him, one arm was able to get through the arm hole, but the other arm was stuck mid-way. It made for a very awkward cheering position. 

He shut the door quickly behind him and helped the archer get up. “Clint, what’s- I thought you were in trouble. It sounded like you were fighting off people in here. What’s going on?” He asked, helping Clint out of the binder, it was maybe a little too fucking tight for Clint. Phil glared at the binder when it was finally off of Clint.

"I- uh- you know, stuff. Just the daily ritual of trying to get into the binder." Clint shrugged sheepishly after putting on a shirt that was on his mattress.

"Clint, you should have told me that the binder was too small. I would have gotten you new ones. Ones that actually fit. Wait, were you wearing these the whole week?" Phil asked, suddenly alarmed.

"No! I- I wanted to, but I didn’t want to risk injury so I just mostly left my room without wearing the binders. I didn’t want you to find out that the binders were too small because you looked so happy when you gave them to me and its such a thoughtful gift but I couldn’t wear them either. I had to compensate by slouching a lot which is terrible for my posture, by the way."

Phil sighed in relief. “Oh thank god. I thought you were wearing these. And that I might have done something you didn’t like that’s why you kept on tensing up and slouching when I’m around.”

"What? No. I just-" Clint sighed. "We’re terrible at this communication thing."

Phil snorted but nodded. “Agreed.” Phil threw the binder on the bed and grabbed a coat for Clint. “Come on. We’re going down to Halley’s office.”

"The wardrobe department’s head? What are we gonna do there?"

"Well, she owes me a few favors and I think I can maybe talk her into cashing one out now. She can make you proper sized binders. Ones that actually fit you right." Phil smiled over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/107418983646/shout-out-to-the-awesome-macpye-for-answering-my)

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/93987691941/please-tell-me-if-i-messed-something-up-and-ill)


End file.
